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Changed

The joy we expected was not to be found,
returning to memory's place.
Illusions we cherished fell flat on the ground
and left not a dream in their space.
There's peace in accepting that all things must change;
a matter of personal style.
Events that we knew may become something strange,
until we allow with a smile.

Author notes

Written April 2, 2009
We had several of these disappointments; do we go back and see for sure, or go forward and keep our illusions? We can accept that nothing stays the same, and let them change as they will. I usually resist the inevitable until I am exhausted by it.

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Comments

1 - 7 of 7
  • drifting cloud silver member
    November 9
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    I like this. Very nice rhythm and message to offer the reader.


  • midnight51
    October 31

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    A quaint poignant little piece you have here Margaret. Very pleasing to read and ponder. Thanks so much for sharing.


  • hugh wyles silver member
    October 21

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    Dear Margaret,

    It seems, when trying to retrace our past,
    we find that nothing ever stays the same.
    Illusions, fondly held, but seldom last.
    Is time or failing memory to blame?

    Places in particular when revisited, seem to have lost their remembered freshness and sparkle, having noticeably deteriorated since former visits The same can be observed with most people. I am sure others observe that it has happened to me too!

    Your poem says this very aptly.
    Applause, love and hugs, XXX Hugh.


  • Pattiboo silver member
    October 20

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    How very true

    We often look back via rose tinted glasses remembering how things were. I must admit things around here haven't changed too much over the years nothing that comes as a shock to see anyway. If we ever leave this house I don't think I would ever want to return to see what others might have done to my beloved garden.

    There's peace in accepting that all things must change; wise words but not so easy to do.

  • DeeCrepit gold member
    October 20

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    A Non-sonnet of Strength

    .
    .
    .
    Disillusion, the negative form
    should be evidence enough
    that for every illusion born
    its opposite awaits. Tough
    lessons crouch before the storm
    unseen in victim's trough
    unaware about to be forlorn.

    Don't we all our luck enjoy
    when every friend rejoices?
    Sneaky stall struck to employ
    remaining end of choices.

    Yet when we survey the world
    and see the loss portrayed
    with its true colours unfurled
    show no cause to be afraid:

    Happy thoughts rather late:
    We alone control our fate!

    Thank you Margaret: only as a reply could this poem exist
    Terry


  • waydownuponjoy
    October 20
    Edit | Reply

    Your clappies didn't take ...

    so I'll try again! joy

  • waydownuponjoy
    October 20

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    Thank you for sharing this ...

    and I can appreciate its content and style ... and smilin' is much easier than frowning, that's for sure! Memory's place has the capability of deceiving us and yet isn't it all in the perception? Truth is, if it's going to work for the good then it is up to us perceive all has its purpose under heaven. joy

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